


Noah's Recovery (working title)

by violetpixiedust



Category: Original Work
Genre: Developing Relationship, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Past Torture, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 21:30:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21326998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetpixiedust/pseuds/violetpixiedust
Summary: Noah has recently escaped to Phoenix, Arizona and is in the process of finding a job and rebuilding his life. His past deeds had landed him in Mexico where he was tortured and raped. But now he is free and looking to start over. He does well at first but it all turns sour when he meets his new co-worker Luis. Noah is in need of saving once again only this time he can't do it alone.Andrew Cordova's life has been predictable. He got good grades in school and studied hard and ended up with a master's in Engineering. He's now in his late thirties good looking and wealthy, well wealthier. His family has always had money. He's smart and owns his own company. But with all of his success Andrew is bored. Lucky for him that he meets Noah.
Relationships: Noah Pierce/ Luis Torres, Noah Pierce/Andew Cordova, OMC/OMC





	Noah's Recovery (working title)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story that I've ever posted. Feel free to comment. It has not been Beta'd.

Sometimes he is lonely. He has yet to make any friends in this city, not that he has tried. That’s alright, preferred even. Being alone suits him fine. Noah has been holed-up at an extended-stay motel in the hot, hell-scape that is Phoenix, Arizona for almost two months now.

He ran out of food last night. Finished off the last of the brown rice along with his final can of black beans he mixed with it. Noah’s kitchen cabinets, all three of them, are completely empty. Not that they were ever brimming to begin with. Peeking down he notices his only pot and bowl are still unwashed from dinner. 

Unproductively, as Noah already knows nothing lay inside, he opens the fridge. ‘Depressing,’ his mind supplies. The only contents lining the shelves are a glass jar housing only a couple chips worth of salsa, a plastic water jug missing it’s lid, and and empty mustard container kept only as a friend for the salsa remnants. Noah breathes out a heavy sigh, his kitchenette resembles the rest of his pathetic living quarters, both of which are now barren.

There is one main living space in the middle of which sits a full-sized bed. He has already made the bed, like he does every morning now. Just thinking about his own bed makes him smile. Next to the bed, hugged into the corner is a wooden side table that holds an old telephone and black clock with big red numbers. On the other side of the bed is a heavily stained recliner. On the opposite wall there is a dirty window that contains a small air conditioning unit. Above the A/C hangs a horrible floral pink curtain. Noah doesn’t have a problem with the ugly piece of cloth per say, as it keeps the blazing sun out of his east facing room, but he can never quite get the thing to shut completely; there is always a ray of streetlight streaming into his space every night, taunting his restlessness. Next to Noah is the en-suit bathroom. The tiny room is fully equipped with a moldy shower curtain and two ridiculously small, scratchy towels. The whole complex screams of it’s unwashed state, but none of that can damper Noah’s happiness to be here.

What with the low price tag on the joint, he can’t exactly complain about his current living arrangements. Not that the man can really afford the $150 he has to fork over every Monday to the, bored-looking young, man who works the front desk most mornings. 

Noah’s life has vastly improved from the awful place he escaped from earlier this year. But he still can’t help but dwell on the fact that he yet to obtain his driver’s license. Though he was able to get a certified copy of his birth certificate. Even so earning money has been difficult so far. It has been impossible to get any legitimate employment, so Noah has been doing side jobs and under the table gigs since arriving back in the States six months ago. Very rarely does he resort to theft but late one night Noah thought up a desperate scheme that does involve stealing. Today is Friday and at it would be the perfect night to enact his plan.  
He knows he needs breakfast. He hadn’t eaten much in the last few days. As his stomach grumbles, Noah glances at the clock on his bedside table, 8:17 am. He spots his wallet next to the clock. The man walks over and counts the heavily wrinkled five dollar bills that reside within the center pocket. Three, a total of fifteen dollars. He had earned a nice 20 dollar bill earlier that week by helping Sister Ann over at Corpus Christi Catholic Church. Noah isn’t church going, not anymore, but the church is an easy way to make a couple bucks every now and again; plus it’s an easy, ten minute walk from the motel. 

After placing the money back, Noah puts his wallet into his back pocket. Looking around his dingy room he wonders how his life got to this point. He’s 32 with only fifteen dollars to his name. It’s his own fault really, a lifetime of poor choices and missteps. Drugs are partially to blame, aren’t they always? He started selling them young, eighteen years ago. Strange to look back on it now. Not that he has any time to rue. Breakfast needs to be scrounging up, and his stomach rumbles again in agreement.

It’s July, it’s Phoenix, it’s hot. Noah feels the sweat already forming on his body. He slips on his flip flops, grabs his backpack, and heads out of his room, locking the door behind him. He is wearing tan cargo shorts and a horrible yellow t-shirt, both pieces obtained, for free, from the Salvation Army. Clothes, clothes also make him smile. His life is finally starting to look up.  
Noah hunts down, and shoves his face full of a couple of day-old bagels. He got them from Jose, a recent acquaintance that he met last month, Jose is the day manager at a nearby coffee shop. Noah had done some plumbing work for the store. 

After finishing off both of the stale bagels Noah wonders how he should go about finding a viable client for this evenings cash acquiring endeavor. A dance club or strip joint immediately come to mind but both of those require an entrance fee and driver’s license. Neither of which he has. His plan is simple: pick a target that’s attracted to him, get them drunk, steal their cash. Boom! Sure it could be said that it’s not a great plan. And no, he isn’t the first idiot with this exact idea. Plus the lord knows it’s not fool-proof but Noah is getting extremely tired of living day-to-day. The constant stress is probably giving his stomach ulcers and that’s definitively something he can’t afford. 

A big payday would put his stress-addled mind at ease, more money will also help him get his license. Noah was born in Ashland, Kentucky in 1987. He is a US citizen but getting a new license has proved more difficult than anticipated, welcome to American bureaucracy at it’s finest, ladies and gentlemen. Apparently you need a permanent address, a bank account, money, and access to the internet. Of which Noah has a semi-permanent place of residence. Oh you also need proof of citizenship, at least he has that now.  
Anyway, if he strikes it big tonight his life should proceed as follows: Get licence, job, apartment, phone, car and ALWAYS have food. Pretty legit life goals if he’s honest. Speaking of honesty, Noah knows has never been a model citizen. He’s stolen, lied, cheated, and even sold drugs but even with all that he has never though of himself as the bad guy. He has a good-guy heart, especially after Mexico. 

Tonight’s theft makes his stomach ill-at-ease. In the past he has only stolen from known criminals. So Noah is secretly hoping he will be able to find a delinquent that he can rip off. Stealing from some nice, old person will just make him feel bad. I mean he has done some awful things to survive and he truly understands how tough the world can be; but in a different life, in a more affluent life, he would have ended up like as a history teacher or social worker, or something. 

While pondering his predicament Noah briskly travels the already warming sidewalks of his neighborhood. He figures his best bet right now is to make a game plan with use of the library’s free internet. Noah loves the Harmon Library. No, he is not an avid reader, nor is he studious. No, Noah love the library because he has access to computers with free Wi-Fi, air conditioning, and because he is allowed to be there for hours on end and not get kicked out. His library is a bit of a hoof from the motel but it’s not like he has any better options.   
The best way Noah has found to avoid excessive sweating in the Arizona summer is to A) never leave the apartment. Jokes, there is no such secret formula. It’s July, it’s just past nine, and it’s already 95 degrees out. His 40 minute trek is only half completed, but of course Noah’s drenched in sweat already. He hates it. Being sweaty is not the issue, the real problem Noah has lies with his own insecurities. Sure he’s struggling to get by right now but he doesn’t need anyone’s pity. Being sweaty or smelly or inappropriately dressed is cause for society to look down on you and Noah doesn’t want to give anyone an edge in judging him. He will not be thought of as less than. He works hard and deserves respect, even now. Especially now.

Noah opens the library door and shivers as the cold air hits his overheated skin. He actually has a library card, it’s not his. He may have lifted it of an elderly gentlemen the first time he visited. Noah swears he is trying to be a better person but in order to get a card, which you need in order to use the computers, you need an ID. Besides taking it from Harry Stern was barley even stealing, the old man left it out next to him while he looked up some books. Swiping it had been a piece of cake. Tonight was going to be much more challenging.

The sweat-soaked man easily makes his way over to the rows of computers that dominate the back section of the building. He sits at one of the many open spots. It’s Friday morning and Noah only sees about a dozen people, staff included. He enters in his library card number and pin, which was conveniently written on Harry’s card already, into the login screen. 

As Noah browses random news articles he begins planning this evenings events in his mind. His target needs to be an older male or female. They need to be wealthy which might be difficult to determine without talking to them first. He would really rather find someone more disagreeable and unfriendly, that way he won’t have a huge sense of guilt after stealing from them. No one too vicious as they might be more prone to retaliating.

Now where to go? A bar or strip club might be suitable. Ignoring the fact that he has no money. A busy bar has anonymity, drunk and unsuspecting clientele, and a reason to get close to someone. A strip club on the other-hand has all of that plus people with pockets full of cash. No wait, on second thought a strip joint wouldn’t work because the usual patrons most definitely would not be interested in him. No point in pursuing a disinterested party. It’s no matter as the entrance fee posed a huge barrier anyway. A bar might be best as most places wouldn’t check for ID at the door.He was originally thinking the dance or strip club because it’s patrons were far more likely to be carry large sums of cash, but beggars and all. Okay Noah narrowed down his potential setting enough to start his search. He opened a new tab and started Googling ‘bars nearby.’  
After only a couple of minutes he decides that there are really only two choices, Hank’s Bar and Grill or a place called the Night Owl Lounge. Hank’s Bar being a good option because they have a dance floor and live music tonight. Neither place is as glamorous or exciting as he expected but hey the bar does has to be within a reasonable walking distance. The Night Owl looks a bit more low key, which works for him. The reviews he read talk about the place being dark, the drinks being expensive but strong, and the wait staff average. The Night Owl’s vibe speaks to him on a person level so he’s pretty sure that’s where he’ll strike but Noah keeps Hank’s in his back pocket just in case.

He pulls up a map of the bar and finds the shortest route from his place. It’s an easy walk that will take him about 25 minutes to make. The lounge opens its doors at nine but he’ll plan on being there at ten. Arrangements pretty well solidified, Noah continues to read useless news articles for the remainder of his computer time. He finds himself nodding off by the time the machine kicks him off. Noah eyes the clock, 10:38. He’s hungry but napping sounds cheaper than eating. Noah decides to go back to the hotel to rest and get dinner right before heading out for the night. 

Thinking more about it, Noah might want to target a man. If he finds a guy who’s interested in him Noah might be able to score some free drinks. Women would want Noah to buy drinks for them and unless he plans on swiping cash from a lady only to pay for their drinks with it... Nah, easiest to prey upon a man. Harder to fight off if caught but overall probably a bigger reward in it. With that in mind Noah heads home.

After sleeping the afternoon away, Noah awakens to the sound of his overbearing alarm clock. Shutting it off he heads to the shower. Once clean the real work begins, he needs to look good, attractive yet inconspicuous; a tough look to pull off. Black will probably be featured in his attire tonight. After brushing his teeth and applying deodorant he heads out to the small dresser, located under the small TV across from the foot of the bed, it’s where all of his clothes are kept. There is not much to choose from, he got everything from either the Salvation Army or the Corpus Christi church.

He picks out a tight fitting pair of black pants. He hasn’t actually worn these yet because it’s summer and he lives in the south but damn do they make him feel sexy. For a shirt his pick is a dark gray tee shirt that shows some skin on his chest. It has a soft, worn-in feel, fits well, and most importantly, it covers all of the scars on his torso and back. Most of the scars on Noah’s arms are still visible but none of them are as bad as the ones on his back, so he counts it as a win. Even though he isn’t self-conscience about his abused body being exposed, he is nervous about tonight going well. Noah needs to make a good first impression on any potential victim and excessive body scars might scare people away. Noah decides that his arms will remain uncovered as it’s too hot for sleeves in the desert, even at night. It’s not like he is able hide the long knife mark that streaks across the left side of his face, anyway. His life has been tough and his body tells his tales for him. 

Even with the contempt he has for the scars that riddle his entire body, Noah still can still appreciate how good he looks. He has been through a lot recently, he hasn’t had enough to eat for the past year nor has he exercised as regularly since returning from Mexico. Besides in order to make serious muscle gains like he had in his twenties he would need to eat way more protein than he is currently. Noah was turning his life back around, he was going to get a normal job after tonight. Then he would never have to worry about food again.

Back in the small bathroom Noah looks himself over in the mirror. Yes he thinks, despite it all he is still very attractive. Damn flesh wounds won’t even damage his ego. He smiles to himself. The man doesn’t have much but he does own a small pencil of charcoal eyeliner; it’s one of the only superfluous purchases he has made since he started living here. He applies a small amount under each eye. Noah notices his hair has started to grow back already, he got it cut for free a few weeks back. It’s brown and a bit wild and goes well with his blue eyes and fair skin. He shaved his face a few days ago so the man has an attractive stubble coming along that is just starting to hide part of his scar.  
Noah starts to hustle as his stomach’s grumblings begin to get more persistent. Frowning after putting on his only pair of old tennis shoes, Noah really wishes he had a nicer pair. Normally he doesn’t mind them as apart from looking battered they fit well and work just fine. They don’t, however, go with his outfit. What they do is make him look poor. ‘I am poor,’ Noah thinks. Hopefully the dark lights of the Night Owl will hide his outfit’s deficiencies. 

It’s nearing six at night as Noah checks his pockets to make sure he has everything. Not that he has much. His wallet with his fifteen dollars, his room key. No id, no credit cards, no phone, or car keys. He’s set. 

Once outside Noah determines that he’ll head over to the church to see if he can help out Sister Ann and perhaps he can grab a free bite. He has four hours to kill anyway. The powerful air conditioning that the church blasts has nothing to due with his decision...his legs feel sweaty already. 

Belly now full of leftovers, Noah find himself in one the church’s many bathrooms fixing up some sink piping. Sister Ann has turned off the water already. He thankfully has a general idea of the problem. He would never consider himself a handyman, but being poor tends to make one very creative and self-reliant when it comes to repairing broken things. 

After fixing up the leaking pipes Noah has a few words with Sister Ann. He tells her only that he’s doing alright and that he will hopefully be employed before long. She sends him on his way after telling him to stop by again next week. 

Ten o’clock rolls around soon enough and after a bit of a hike Noah finds himself inside the Night Owl Lounge. He heads straight to the bathroom to take a piss and freshen up. Once clean he makes a bee-line for the bar and orders cheap beer. After paying and tipping the pretty blonde bartender a whole dollar he scans the darkened room. They place is busy but not packed and the music is loud but not deafening. It would be hard to have a long or detailed conversation. Which, he decides, will work in his favor.

Noah takes a calming breath and plasters a smile on his face. “It’s now or never,” he mutters quietly to himself as he heads straight over to a gentleman in his upper fifties that is sitting with a small group of people, all of them snug together in a curved booth by the wall. The old man Noah is eyeing is sitting at the end of the bench next to a young woman, who is more Noah’s age. Next to her are two very gay men practically sitting in each other laps. As he approaches the booth the gentleman smiles back at Noah. He takes this as a positive sign and crouches down to yell in the man’s ear, “Hi, I’m Nathan.” 

“Hi Nathan, It’s nice to meet you. Mine name is Charles and this is my Sister Tina and some of our friends, Daniel and Damien.” Everyone at the table turns to look at him.

“Wow. Hi everyone,” Noah shouts as Charles waves his hand to motion that everyone scoot down a bit. Noah squeezes in until he is thigh to thigh with the older man.

“Haven’t seen you in here before, new to the area?” Charles asks directly into his ear.

“Yeah came here last month.” Noah replies thinking to himself that he really shouldn’t give anymore real information about himself to this man. Charles seems nice, too nice to steal from, but Noah realized while ordering his beer that it might be more difficult than he thought to find a subject that was gay or bi. Lucky for him then that he spotted the men making out at this booth and figured that it would be a safe place to start, what with Charles looking partner-less and wealthy.

The table all chats a bit before the older man heads up to the bar to buy everyone a round. ‘He is nice,’ Noah thinks to himself. He doesn’t feel great about the whole situation so he just orders another cheap beer from Charles instead a nice whiskey. Damn his guilt he could sure use a stiff drink right now. After forcing himself to chit chat with Tina, Daniel, and Damien, Charles finally returns with the drinks.  
Noah immediately downs his current beer, which was unpleasantly warm because he had been nursing it for too long. Noah gets up to let Charles back in and thanks him for his new beer. The old man smiles and raises his glass while declaring to the table, “To making new friends.” Noah internally sighs, he really needs to get this over with before he gets to attached.

After about forty more minutes of drinks and conversation Noah decides to strike. All of his table-mates are pretty intoxicated and about ready to depart, plus Charles is starting to get handsy. Furthermore he completed his reconnaissance the last time Charles bought drinks. Noah went up the the bar with the man to help him carry everything and the old man is most definitely carrying a bunch of cash in his wallet. 

Tina has wandered off to use the restroom before leaving and the couple has already said their goodbyes disappeared up to the bar for a final round of shots. Noah smiles apologetically up at Charles whose salt and pepper hair looks quite alluring under the lounge’s dim lights. “Sorry I didn’t buy you or your friends a round, Charles, I’m a bit strapped for cash this month.” 

Charles just smiles right back, “No problem, Nathan, I know how hard it can be sometimes. Thanks for hanging out with us tonight. I had a nice time.”  
Noah hugs Charles and slips his dexterous fingers into the other man’s back pocket. Charles tips the smaller man’s chin up and lightly begins to kiss Noah. All the while, Noah is blindly grabbing the cash from the older man’s wallet. Noah is no professional pick-pocket but this isn’t his first time either. Money now in hand, Noah stealthily brings the folded bills into his own front pocket. The men end their kiss and Charles hands Noah a crumpled cocktail napkin containing a phone number on it. “I’ll be sure to call you tomorrow,” Noah lies smiling up at him. Tina has return and is pulling at her brother’s arm. “Come on Charlie I have to work tomorrow,” She drunkenly whines. The older man ignores her in favor of waving back at Damien and Daniel as the two men head out the door. 

“Alright, Tina, let’s get you home.” Charles turns to face Noah again. “Have a nice night, Nathan, Hope you get home safely,” Charles says while leaning down to give Noah’s cheek a quick peck.

Noah quietly watches the siblings leave. Once they are out of sight Noah heads to the restroom and holes himself up in one of the stalls there. He quickly pulls his cash out of his front pocket and begins to count. He stole 678 dollars from Charles. Noah’s heart hurts. ‘That is so much cash to carry around Charlie,’ he thinks. He feels pretty awful about the whole ordeal as the gentleman genuinely seemed to be a good person.   
Back in his room Noah immediately locks his front door, toes his shoes off, and shoves his now stuffed wallet into the side-table drawer. Noah falls asleep almost instantly.  
Noah rises the next morning feeling giddy. All of last nights guilt has faded and a strong sense of relief washes over him. He has nearly $700 to his name. A stupid smile is plastered on his face throughout his morning shower. After getting dressed and stashing $500 in his closet’s small safe, Noah heads out to find some breakfast.  
For the first time in a long while Noah feels stuffed. He has just finished eating after hunting down a place that serves a breakfast buffet. The joint is called Birdie’s Breakfast and man do they go all out. Noah heads up to the counter to pay, it’s expensive but he is treating himself today. For a job well executed.  
His weekend flies by and early Monday morning finds him dashing out the door. First thing on the agenda for the day is to head to the DMV and get his license. He continues out into the dry heat and is thankful that he chose shorts and tennis shoes to wear. The man’s trek takes him just under an hour. Grabbing his ticket number he finds an empty seat after arriving at the Department of Motor Vehicles. He double checks his back pocket to make sure his birth certificate is still there, it is. He is nervous.  
It was still relatively early in the day and the ticket he grabbed says he is number 73. He glances up at the TV where it states that they are now serving number 58. Most of the other people sitting around Noah are on their phones or filling out forms. He probably needs to fill something out too. After looking around the entirety of large yet windowless room he spots where the forms are kept. By the time someone calls out his ticket number, Noah has just finished filling out the necessary paperwork.  
Everything goes smoothly but since Noah is new to the area he is made to take a short driving test on the computer. Thankfully despite not having driven for the past two years, he passes. After paying, he gets his picture taken, and is soon leaving with a freshly printed ID in hand. ‘Now I just need a car,’ Noah thinks to himself. The man happily places his new piece of identification into his wallet. The man decides to go to the library as he needs to find a real job and today is as good as any to start.   
Once Noah sits at a computer station he huffs out a sigh, he is hungry again and tired. He has done so much walking today and it’s only early afternoon. Noah supposes he’s earned a nap but he’s already here he might as well do some preliminary research. He stares at Google’s home page, what to search? To be honest he has no idea what jobs he would be good at. It hadn’t ever occurred to him to think this far ahead. With drug dealer and petty criminal on his list of former occupations what actual job skills does he possess? Noah opens up a new Word document and starts typing.   
“Good at negotiating, typing, spelling, reading, handling large amounts of cash. Has experience with customer service and solicitation. He graduated from High School.”  
Noah thinks he should just go ahead and write up a resume at this point. He heads back over to Google and starts looking over some examples of how to write one. Fifty minutes later he is printing off his own. Noah figures he has earned a break and heads back to the motel.  
The next day while leaving the grocery store, Noah finds a notice for a warehouse position on the bulletin board. He borrows a pen from a lady grabbing a cart and jots down the number on his arm. His calls the number as soon as he gets home. Noah talks with a man named Bruce, they schedule his interview for this Friday.   
Noah happily makes dinner, pasta with chicken, while Modern Family plays in the background. He thinks his resume turned out all right, he fibbed about already having a couple actual jobs. They are not total lies as he has had several real jobs just nothing recently. He was a fry cook at some shitty chain restaurant for about a year, back in his early twenties. Then he stocked shelves for a grocery store, it was a night shift so he only lasted about eight months there. Lastly he worked at a gas station until he was 27, that was was the longest he had ever had a job someplace. Noah was there for just over four years. But that was five years ago and some of the advise he was reading today at the library told him that informing any potential employers about his five year employment gap would do him no favors. So Noah just lied about the dates that he worked at these places. He just hopes no one will look into it. Finger crossed that Friday will go well, Noah sits down in his recliner and eats his dinner.


End file.
